Alone
by SEGAChic
Summary: He just wanted to win a race for his friends... He didn't see this coming. Contains character death.


It was another beautiful day at the Lost Palace of Seaside Hill; the sun was out, the Chao were dancing, everything was peaceful...

Until the sounds of eight different engines revving up broke the silence.

It was the annual Sega All-Stars Race, where various members of the Sega Cooperation got together and raced each other for the honor of being Number One. And this was his first year. Who was he? A little boy named Billy Hatcher.

Billy hadn't raced a car before; he had raced eggs plenty of times with his friends, but never an actual car. His friends had all chipped in and bought him one, painting it to look like one of the eggs they would roll around Morning Land, apparently as a means of "representing all of them" or something.

Billy snapped himself out of his train of thought when he heard the announcer's voice; "3! 2! 1!"

With that, the racers were off; bikes, planes, cars, driving across the sandy beaches, through a loop, across the rickety planks. Billy had taken an early lead, and did a good job maintaining it... Until the third lap.

He had been driving towards a ramp, when another racer cut him off; he slammed on the brakes, trying to avoid a collision, and suceeded, getting himself stuck just under the ramp in a small, sandy area, the ocean's water right in front of him.

Now he was stuck; he tried putting the car in reverse, but the tires could not get a grip on the wet sand. He sighed, slumping over on to his steering wheel, putting the car in neutral and waiting for someone to rescue him. Usually in these scenarios, the flag man would fly out, lift the car and the driver up, and put them back on the track.

But the final lap came and went, and no flag man came. Billy sat there for a few hours, the other racers going off to the other tracks to finish the Prix. Oh well. They'd be back for the ceremony for the winners, notice he wasn't there, and return.

So the boy waited. He twiddled his thumbs, fiddled around with the radio, talked to himself; trying to keep himself busy.

He held an entire conversation with himself, pretending Rolly, Chick, and Bantam were right there listening to him;

"Hey guys! Yeah, I uh... I didn't win... No, see, Rolly, I kinda messed up and got stuck in some sand... Yeah, they made me wait for hours before they sent help! I was so bored! But I stayed brave through the whole thing, just like a hero does! I..."

He continued this conversation for quite some time, and when he looked up, he realized the sun was going down. He bit his lip, looking around worriedly; there was no rescue in sight. He pulled his knees up to his chest before hugging himself, humming a little tune to himself, knowing that they couldn't leave him out here... They _wouldn't _leave him out here...

Soon, night fell, and with that, the tempertures started dropping. Billy shivered, his teeth chattering, as he adjusted himself to be sitting correctly, putting his feet back into the floor boards, when he heard a soft splash. He blinked before his eyes slowly made their way down, showing him that the tide was raising, and it was raising fast. Any trace of being calm left him as he began screaming for help.

"Help! Announcer? Guys? Anybody?!"

Billy put his arms around himself, tears welling up in his eyes when he realized his desperate cries for help were getting him nowhere. He sniffled, letting the tears fall, his body shaking; he'd never see Morning Land again. He'd never see his friends again. He was going to die out here, shivering, terrified, and alone. He felt the water rushing up against his ankles now, sending chills up his spine. Still, he continued to call:

"Someone, please! I'm trapped down here! Help!"

His desperate shouting continued, the water raising around him; soon it was to his waist, then his chest, then his neck. He sat in complete silence now, terror taking over him, making him completely forget what he was doing.

"Please...?"

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, as the water continued raising, over his mouth and above his head.

The next day, as they were cleaning up the beach following the race, they finally found him; face down, washed up on the beach.


End file.
